


Closer

by HerSistersKeeper, pythia



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, Childhood Sweethearts, F/M, Implied Poe Dameron/Finn, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Kylo Ren Redemption, Kylo Ren and Rey Are Not Related, Minor Poe Dameron/Finn, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Relationship(s), Post-High School, Writers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 13:26:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12772014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerSistersKeeper/pseuds/HerSistersKeeper, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pythia/pseuds/pythia
Summary: Of course. Of course, after months, no, years—three years, in fact, and maybe some odd months—of not deigning her or anyone in her family with his presence, here was Ben Solo, longtime human disaster and onetime friend, sauntering into a bar she happened to in. She supposed that she was grateful that he hadn’t noticed her, his dark eyes seemingly having slid past her to find a seat further up the bar, a Kindle in hand.Rey wasn’t sure what had her glaring at her wine as if to will it to vinegar—the fact that when she last knew him, he was going by Kylo Ren, pretending to be the condescending author type with an alcohol problem, or that he had walked past her with barely a flicker of recognition. She found her gaze fixed on him again, her brow furrowed in fury, and she had to tear it away and back to her drink.“Oh, hello.”"'Oh hello?' Really, Kylo?" In a moment, she's swatting his shoulder with her clutch, the smile gone. "You drop out of Poe's life for 3 years, drop out of my life for 3 years, and all you can say is 'oh hello'? I almost hope you're drunk off your ass right now."orBen Solo and Rey Dameron have never known what to do with each other. That much hasn't changed.





	Closer

Summer had passed a while ago, a fact that had Rey Dameron sinking further down into her navy blue sweater, the hotel’s bar too cold for her liking. The city, in general, was still warming up to her, the twenty-four-year-old feeling as if she was in high school once more, glancing around, waiting for the air to accept her into the space.

It was always hard, transferring to a new place, even if it was for work. It was odd, leaving behind her older brother and their parents back home. Even if she had been adopted, wasn’t their blood, Rey still longed for her family, their close bond stretching with the distance. Poe had told her in their video chat last week that it’d get better, that she just needed to make friends, maybe find a boyfriend.

So here she was on a Thursday night, her phone flat on its back before her, keeping her wineglass company as she mindlessly swiped through Tinder again. Rey wondered if it was weird, maybe presumptive, to be browsing through the dating app while she was waiting for her latest match to meet her, but considering this was her third month in Naboo and her Thursdays all looked like this anymore…well, she didn’t think too hard about it, pointer finger swiping again to the left.

Truth be told, she wasn’t sure what—or who—she was looking for anymore.

Ignoring the few leering men around her, Rey took a sip of her drink, sighing at how her grip automatically tightened around the stem when someone brushed past her for the bathroom. She was young, but not stupid, perhaps even too overly cautious. Poe’s college party lesson rang in her ears still: keep your friends close, and your drink closer. There was a pit that deepened in her stomach with that thought, and it wasn’t because of the necessity of the advice—just that one of his friends had taken that advice to the extreme. At least with the keeping his drink closer than his friends.

Not letting the bitterness from that thought sit for too long, the young woman reached for her phone, pulling up Poe’s number now. Maybe it was odd to FaceTime your brother while waiting for a date, but Rey’s brother essentially was the embodiment of calm. It was the first thing that had tipped her off to the fact that she was adopted—she had a temper, a fire, always ready to snap. With Poe, it was a gradual build. She had only seen him lose his temper once, and she idly wondered again if it was part of the reason why that certain friend had left.

She didn’t think too long, Poe quickly picking up the call, his grinning face and the sight of his boyfriend, Finn, over his shoulder putting her at ease. “Hey, peanut! Your date didn’t stand you up again, right?”

“He has five minutes to get here, so I’ll keep you updated.” Rey smiled back, letting her shoulders relax as she checked her reflection in the front-facing camera. It was odd to be wearing makeup, to have her hair down, but as Poe and Finn gushed over how cute and grown-up she looked, she didn’t mind (though she did roll her eyes at Poe’s insistence that he take a screenshot for their parents).

“Should I caption it, ‘Little Rey is waiting for her Prince Charming’?” Poe was teasing when she caught a reflection, a face, and torso, in her phone and she jolted up, surprised. She wondered if she was going mad, if her mind was playing tricks, the silhouette of a familiar but worn leather jacket drifting back up from the ether. It threw a shiver up her spine in the worst and best way

“Rey?” There was Finn’s worried voice now, Poe’s echo, but she ignored them, letting her eyes drift slowly to her left, to the man who had just walked past her and the camera. There were those black curls still, resting against that pale face. She knew that if she followed the form down, there would be lanky limbs, that maybe he actually filled out that oversized leather jacket that maybe still smelled of cigarettes and bad decisions. Rey yanked her gaze away, breathing through her nose, trying to center herself.

“I have to go.” She mumbled, tapping the screen and ending the call before Poe could protest. Rey knew that she’d get a few worried texts because of that, but considering the lump forming in her throat, she needed a moment of silence before the blood started rushing to her face.

Of course. Of course, after months, no, years—three years, in fact, and maybe some odd months—of not deigning her or anyone in her family with his presence, here was Ben Solo, longtime human disaster and onetime friend, sauntering into a bar she happened to in. She supposed that she was grateful that he hadn’t noticed her, his dark eyes seemingly having slid past her to find a seat further up the bar, a Kindle in hand.

Rey wasn’t sure what had her glaring at her wine as if to will it to vinegar—the fact that when she last knew him, he was going by Kylo Ren, pretending to be the condescending author type with an alcohol problem, or that he had walked past her with barely a flicker of recognition. She found her gaze fixed on him again, her brow furrowed in fury, and she had to tear it away and back to her drink.

“Oh, hello.” His words were softer than she expected, but maybe only because she expected silence. If anything, the words were for the bartender, not her. She edged a glance over to him, face flushing in an instance as their eyes met, his look amused, even as he turned away, running a hand through his dark hair, still long, curling around his neck. Somewhere, deep inside, Rey’s younger self sighed wistfully, and the woman wanted to do nothing more than squelch that old crush.

Still, Rey sat there a moment, blinking once, twice. She almost rubbed her eyes to make sure she's seeing him, pulling her hand down. She had spent too long doing her eye makeup for the likes of Ben Solo to ruin it again for her, dammit. The bartender was sliding a glass to him now, and out of habit, she wanted to reach out, push it out of his grip, but she ignored the urge to care. He gave that luxury up with a phone call and some cruel words.

Ben smiled at his phone at her discomfort. Rey looked beautiful and nervous, obviously meeting someone. A part of him wished it was him.

Getting up, drink in hand, Rey stepped closer to his spot at the bar, with what could maybe be a coy smile, maybe a grimace on her lips. She forced her voice to be soft as she set her glass down again, even though there is something bubbling, practically boiling in her mind.

"'Oh hello?' Really, Kylo?" In a moment, she's swatting his shoulder with her clutch, the smile gone. "You drop out of Poe's life for 3 years, drop out of my life for 3 years, and all you can say is 'oh hello'? I almost hope you're drunk off your ass right now."

Schooling his features into an expression of surprise Kylo looked up, "Rey? Wow. Nice to see you. What are you doing here?" He hoped his voice seems genuinely surprised. That she didn't hear the banked heat behind the friendly words.

"What am I...?" Rey lost her voice for a moment, her mouth dropping in an 'o' of surprise. "I should be asking you that! What are you doing in a bar? What happened to 'Sorry, you're not good for my developing sobriety, I need to cut you off'?"

With a groan, Rey all but dumped herself into the chair next to his, seething. "What, did writing the next great novel drive you to drink again, or did you finally start talking to Poe again and he asked you to stalk me?"

"Why am I even talking to you, I've been doing just fine without you talking to me." She muttered under her breath, forcing herself to smooth her skirt, still looking up to glare at him.

Kylo shrugged, swirling the ice in his glass, "I'm drinking club soda. I just like bars; otherwise, I spend too much time alone. You're talking to me because you just can't resist a handsome guy like me. It's understandable." He smiled, giving Rey the same charming pirate smile that his father used on everyone whenever he needed to get his way.

Rey glared at him, drumming her fingers on the slick wood bar. She knew that if she fixed him with a glare and a raised eyebrow long enough, he'd deflate just a hair. Enough so that he was bearable to talk to. It was something that she knew to do, and for a moment, she worried that he had changed too much, but somewhere, deep down, she knew they were the same.

Sure, maybe he didn’t drink anymore, and maybe she was more grown up, surer of herself, but deep down, they were a pair of fucked up kids who never knew what to do with the other.

"You look beautiful. Who are you meeting?" He turned a page in his Kindle book and marked the page, giving Rey his full attention. Three years and she was even more beautiful than before.

"None of your business, Kylo." Rey forced herself to ignore the compliment, inhaling sharply through her nose, forcing herself to breathe deeply. She was being careful, using the asshole nickname he had insisted on being called back in high school. She was sure that was his pen name now, but still, he wasn't Ben. Not her Ben.

"It's Ben. Kylo is for work."

"Last time we talked, you were going back and forth on names. I'm just using the name that I cursed three years ago." She sat up primly, nodding at the bartender as her glass was whisked away, a new drink replacing it.

"It's not my fault that you stopped talking to me around the same time your first book was picked up to be published." She should be looking for her date, she scolded herself. Rey begrudgingly glanced over her shoulder to look around the bar, almost hoping to have been stood up. Anything to just go back home and forget that Ben had popped back up in her life.

"I didn't mean to stop talking to you, things changed very quickly. The next thing I knew, I had a totally different life and it had been three years. I didn't want to cut you or Poe out. I just didn't know how to come back." Despite herself, the girl snorted derisively at that, not sparing a look at him now, just in case he was feigning some sad expression.

"Right, because that drunk voicemail that you left made it sound as if it was completely accidental." Rey glowered at her drink, at how her fingers tapped along the stem of the glass.

He sighed, "Fuck. What did I say?” Ben kind of suspected, but who knows what he did while drinking back then.

Rey was tempted to pull her phone out, to just go through her old voicemails. She had saved it, playing it during those moments when she was on the edge of emailing him or calling him again. It had gotten her through three years. She had expected to delete the whole damn thing, especially if this date had gone well, if she had proven herself of moving past him.

But of course, he had to be here.

"I don't remember all of it, but something along the lines of 'Rey, you and Poe aren't my friends anymore because to be around you is to basically be around my parents, and my parents are the reason why I drink. Sorry about all the time I wasted, but thanks for all the book fodder!" Rey forced herself to laugh at that, even if it was bitterly.

She remembered her surprise, her fury when she had picked up his first book a year or so after the call, only to find herself looking back from the pages. She couldn’t remember if she was the love interest or the antagonist in that book, almost turning on her heel to return it. Instead, she had carried it home and shoved it among the other things he had given her back then.

It was packed somewhere in one of her moving boxes, mocking her, asking her how curious she really was for his perspective. Before, she had said not enough, when really she meant too much.

Ben paused and looked Rey sidelong. "You kept it. Didn't you? You know exactly what that means, don't you? That it was like being around them? Because I loved you both and felt like I failed you both."

He shrugged, "Drunk me is full of shit."

Rey shifted uneasily, avoiding his gaze, instead turning back to the bar, her eyes scanning the many liquor bottles with disinterest. "I think you're full of shit in general. Either way, at least you keep to your word, I guess."

She looked back up at him, sighing, annoyed. "Poe was devastated. He tried calling you to see if there was something we could do. You sent all of his calls to voicemail."

"Well, it's good to know that you've kept up your strength carrying that cross, torch or grudge," Ben paused, "I was in rehab for a year."

"Good." Her voice was quiet, her gaze on her hands. "It took you long enough."

She didn't want to ask what had finally pushed him into seeking help--she remembered him and Poe fighting about it, her older brother’s temper exploding against the walls of the off-campus apartment they had shared then.

She remembered slipping business cards for different rehab centers into his coat pocket every time he'd show up at their doorstep, drunk. She wondered, but she didn't ask, instead draining her drink, shaking her head at the bartender's attempt to refill the glass. Still avoiding Ben's eyes, Rey dug into her clutch for her debit card. Her date still hadn't shown, and soon she'd be back home, hopefully drinking to forget this encounter happened.

"I am sorry. That I hurt both of you with that voicemail. I don't remember doing it. I thought we just drifted," he nodded to the bartender and had his club soda refilled.

"You left a different one for Poe. A nicer one. The one you left me was...something." Rey muttered under her breath, all but wincing.

Her older brother had gotten off easy, all things considering. She had lied to him when he had come to her, crestfallen and wondering if she had heard from Ben. Poe, luckily, had been spared of any complaints about his character.

"You told me that I was an overly pious little girl who didn't know the first thing about money, men, and life and that kissing me--drunk or not-- at the New Year’s party was the biggest regret of your year, and it wasn't even February yet."

She let herself laugh because she was afraid to cry in front of him, especially now, feeling the sting of the wound, freshly reopened. "I have to say, I was impressed with your word choice. Really proved me wrong about you as an author."

Ben winced, "Do you think that maybe it was a mistake because you didn't deserve my bullshit?"

"Not when you spent about twenty seconds of a three-minute voicemail critiquing my kissing technique, which was unfair, seeing that I was twenty-one, had my first drink that evening, and no dating life because my brother is Poe and he’s overprotective as hell." She wanted to snap that at him, instead flicking her wrist at him wearily, her other hand cradling her head as she stared at the bottom of her glass.

Ben slammed back the rest of his drink, wishing it was alcohol and turned to stare at Rey, "That was the best kiss of my entire sad, shitty life and I was scared." His voice was rough and low, a tone he'd never used before.

The girl froze, blinking slow, practically stunned, his fierce gaze keeping her in place. She let her eyes drift across his face, remembering every little freckle, mole, mark, scar. She remembered how she had forced Ben to stay still so she could trace his face for art class, snarking at him that she was only using him for his Roman nose and interesting lips, that she preferred him on paper. Then, he either glared at her or smirked, his lips quirking crookedly, almost fondly.

The man looking back at her now didn’t resemble her memory in the slightest, the dark bags under his eyes like bruises, his face smooth, not even a whisper of his grad school beard remaining. He just looked tired, and she wondered how responsible she was for the fatigue.

And then, inversely, if he knew how tired he had made her, her fingers absentmindedly tucking her hair behind her ear, knowing that there was a strand or two of silver in her brown tresses. There was some response itching at the tip of her tongue, but it didn’t come loose fast enough, Ben looking away with a sigh.

He nodded to the bartender and passed him a ten, "No change. Thank you." Standing up, he turned to Rey, "It was good to see you, in a way, I suppose."

"You could have fooled me, seeing that you basically bolted right after and Poe caught you making out with Bazine Netal ten minutes later." As if to get the taste of me off you. Rey hated her late recovery, clearing her throat now. She stood when he did, no longer caring if her date came or not. It was ten minutes past their meetup time anyways. She had more important things to do.

"And if you think we're done with this conversation, I advise you to think again, Ben." His name left her lips before she could catch it, and her cheeks flushed.

She wasn’t sure if he looked more surprised or amused, any extra emotion shuttered away as his face smoothed, his question plain. "What is there left to say?"

"You walked out of my life without thinking of the consequences or of anyone's feelings. You're taking me on a date right now, Ben Solo, if for nothing more than me to scold the everloving shit out of you."

"A date? Why? You clearly hate me. You're meeting someone else, aren't you?" A part of him wanted to grin and laugh at this turn of events. The other part wanted to flee, because a second chance with Rey was far more than he'd ever hoped for.

"Yes, well, my suitor from Tinder will just have to reschedule, seeing that he's already late. Not as late as you are, but at least you showed up." Rey looked up at him, suddenly remembering how he loomed over her still, even when she was in heels.

It was possibly the most foolish thing in her life to do right now, suggesting a date to Ben Solo. She had tried in the past, but then, she had been "Poe's little sister" and "off limits" and all those other excuses he'd utter whenever she'd get him to admit that he like-liked her growing up. It was time for a change.

“Well, alright then. I was going to go home and cook dinner. Can I make you dinner and let you yell at me in the comfort of my home?" He'd just cleaned the place and someone who didn't know he was an alcoholic sent him a nice bottle of wine. Rey probably liked wine, so it might work out well.

"Nope. I'm dressed up, I actually left my apartment, and I refuse to go home with you right now." She looped her arm in his, tried to look imperious, as if she knew exactly what she was doing. "Just take me on whatever date you would have when we were younger."

Rey wondered if nostalgia was getting the best of her, trying to brace herself when she let herself slip closer to him. He smelled different now--clean, no scent of weed smoke or cheap alcohol, more like pine and musk now--but she still felt like a teenager again, shuffling from foot to foot.

Ben sighed, "I didn't date, not really, Rey. We would have gotten drunk and fucked in a stairwell somewhere. I'll take you to Maz."

Rey snorted, muffling the sound with a cough. Now wasn’t the time to start laughing at anything Ben said. Instead, she reached out, tucking her coat under her arm. “Well, are you ready then?”

There was some odd feeling running its way from the pit of her stomach to the back of her throat, something akin to nerves and excitement, as they stepped out into the darkening evening. Rey didn't want to think about if Ben Solo was leading her to stupidity again, so instead, she just held onto his arm tightly, hoping that something had changed enough with time. Hoping that, if not, then he still felt this pull too, and gave her something more solid to hold onto than a paperback and a phone call.

**Author's Note:**

> Find us on Tumblr: 
> 
> [HerSistersKeeper](http://hersisterskeeper.tumblr.com) and [Pythia](http://pythiaspeaks.tumblr.com). 
> 
> Thank you for reading!!!


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